


Hurdles and Barriers

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Affection, Anger, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Awkward Conversations, Bitterness, Caring, Confusion, Culture Shock, Developing Friendships, Explanations, Getting to Know Each Other, Help, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Insults, Language Barrier, Linguistics, Medical Procedures, Misunderstandings, Multiple Selves, Pre-Canon, Public Humiliation, Racism, Surprises, compassion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 03:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14323836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: The newly-created Dr. Schneeplestein struggles to find his place in a home and a career that have very little regard for his heritage. The language barrier is justoneof his problems.





	Hurdles and Barriers

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place sort of pre-canon, when Chase and Jameson haven’t been created yet; Anti, Jackieboy, Marvin and Schneep are the only Egos around and Schneep, the youngest Ego in the house, is still getting to know them.

It wasn’t that Dr. Schneeplestein couldn’t understand English; it was that his knowledge had its limits.

He didn’t know his creator, Jack, personally—at least not yet—but he knew the man had a knack and a love for accents. Why he had elected that Schneep be German, he didn’t know. Perhaps it was so he could sound more professional—either that or to sound more eccentric. Either way, when he first manifested and he heard his own voice, he knew German first and foremost. Jack may not have the familiarity with the language to understand it himself, but his creative powers were enough to give Schneep the information where he failed.

Now if that knowledge could go in two directions and give Schneep better insight into _English_ , he would have nothing to worry about.

He had met two of his fellow Egos under critical circumstances. The older of them, Jackieboy Man, had been stabbed and was lying on the floor of the kitchen in a puddle of his own blood. As soon as Schneep saw him, he’d gone into crisis mode, taking charge, trying to keep the wheezing, suffering hero calm as he treated him.

He hadn’t bothered to pay much attention to whether or not the hero understood him; he was hoping that the simple sound of his voice would be something to latch onto. He used English as best he could, especially when the other one, the magician, arrived on the scene. Schneep had needed a helper in that moment and he certainly knew enough of their language to give orders and save the hero’s life. It was _quite_ an entrance into the fray, if Schneep said so himself.

As Jackieboy Man recovered, Schneep ended up spending more time with him than he had anticipated. During that time, Jackieboy talked. Given that he could hardly get out of bed, talking was one of the only ways to entertain himself. In the interest of learning more about him, Schneep had kept his own mouth shut and listened. Jackieboy had talked about how timely Schneep’s arrival was and had thanked him for saving his life.

“I’m Jackieboy,” he’d finally offered after about ten-minutes of one-sided talk. “Jackieboy Man. When you were treating me, you said you knew about me?”

“Yes, we all know the hero, we all love him,” Schneep had assured him as he’d tweaked the setting on his IV. “I learn you as Jacque puts you in my head.” His brief glance in the hero’s direction sent a twinge of discomfort through his chest; Jackieboy Man stared uncertainly, blankly back at him.

Dropping the IV tube, Schneep gestured awkwardly, correcting himself. “I learn as _Jack_ puts the little, ah, bits in my brain. I’m sorry—Jacque, Jack, they are _austauschbar_.” Jackieboy’s brows furrowed further, so he swallowed hard and added hurriedly, “I study in a school in France for a bit to get my doctor’s license. I am used to Jack as Jacque.”

He expected Jackieboy Man to press the issue, asking some kind of invasive, ignorant question: Why had he studied in France when he was clearly German? Didn’t they have medical schools in Germany? Why didn’t he go there instead? He braced himself, trying to think of a response that wouldn’t convey any resentment.

This wasn’t the case. Jackieboy simply nodded thoughtfully, as if he were filing the information away. “I guess that makes sense. I know an artist who goes by Jacque. And what about you? What d’you go by?”

That was a startling question; he hadn’t even thought about introducing himself. Of all things, he could be confident in that. Tugging on the lapels of his lab coat, he inclined his head. “Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, and FFS.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! You must be a crackerjack in your field if you’ve got that many titles!”

The older Ego was smiling as he said it, clearly impressed, so Schneep returned the smile and nodded, biting back the urge to ask what on earth a “crackerjack” could be. If he had to ask, it would probably force the other to reconsider giving him the compliment. It _was_ a compliment, right?

It seemed there was information he would be filing away too.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Schneep wouldn’t be afraid to admit that he avoided the others when he could. The magician, who apparently didn’t have a name as of yet, seemed to distrust him and avoid him just as enthusiastically, so there was no problem there. Jackieboy, on the other hand, often sought after him and when he did find him and there was no excuse for Schneep to avoid it, he talked. He talked and talked and talked, rarely seeming to take a breath.

Schneep knew it was because he was curious. He wanted to get to know him and it wasn’t as if the feelings weren’t reciprocated! But Schneep wasn’t about to tell him that he couldn’t understand half of the slang he used. Bits and pieces of his sentences seemed to fall off the edge of the earth, where the doctor could only nod helplessly and hope that it was something good that he was agreeing to.

While dodging social cues for conversation, he was otherwise busy exploring his new home—finding a bedroom, setting up his lab and sending his application to various hospitals in the area. He knew that with his qualifications, it wouldn’t take long before he was given a chance to prove his worth not just to the other Egos but to the outside world.

When the opportunity arose, however, it wasn’t at all what he expected. They wanted him to cohost a tour for medical students who were shadowing for the day—three Brits, two Americans, and a Frenchman. Schneep couldn’t begin to describe the relief he felt when he saw the latter; he was confident that there wouldn’t be any communication problems with him. The others were a different story.

Dr. Clark, his cohost, already had a stable job at the hospital, as well as a pristine English vocabulary. As soon as he’d laid eyes on him, Schneep could have told anyone that this was not someone who liked foreigners, but the way he spoke of Schneep to the students only confirmed it.

“This is Dr. Schneeplestein,” he introduced him with a condescending little smile and a tone that reeked of false pleasantries. “He’s come all the way from _Germany_ to find a job here; whether or not he does well on this tour will be part of determining that. He’s not so different from all of you!”

 _Meine Autorität mit ihnen Untergraben_ …“Actually I come from other side of the city,” Schneep cut in with a cheap smile of his own. “I live here, and I think I have the _little_ bit more practice at this than these young ones.” During Dr. Clark’s frustrated pause to think of a reply, Schneep beamed at the group. “But that will change! Let’s take you on this walk around!”

Schneep was more than happy to let Clark do most of the talking, though the other was right in saying his potential for a job was depending on his input. He paid close attention to the French student, noticing when his face creased with confusion as Clark rushed past a subject without any regard for their full understanding of it. Slowing his pace so they were almost shoulder to shoulder, he murmured kindly, “ _Je vais traduire pour vous_.”

To see the young man’s eyes light up at the offer for a translation warmed his heart. One of the American students, however, extinguished that warmth like a cold wind as she scowled at the two of them, halting their conversation about the x-ray machines Dr. Clark was showing them.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re just trying to help him, but you’re being really distracting,” she complained, waving her notebook in frustration. “It’s hard to pay attention when there’s French being spoken _right next_ to my ear.”

Clearly the Frenchman understood enough English to know what she meant by that, if his embarrassed fidget was any indication, and Schneep threw up his hands. “He’s here to learn, just as you!” he protested. “I study in France, I know how to explain to him…”

“In that case, Dr. Schneeplestein, maybe you’d like to take the reins on this tour,” Dr. Clark suggested, stepping emphatically aside and motioning for him to take his place. “Perhaps _all_ of our students could benefit from your knowledge. You could translate as you went along!”

Schneep’s eyes narrowed as he met the other doctor’s smug stare. He could guess what “taking reins” meant, but he was also keenly aware that this was some kind of trap. Pinned on his back was the hopeful gaze of the Frenchman; he didn’t want to let him down. Clearing his throat, he shifted to take the space and the clipboard that Clark indicated, glancing down at the papers for the points they had to cover, the medical machines with which they would familiarize the students.

Every single one of them was in English, each term a mile long, and he had no idea which machines they belonged to, so he couldn’t even begin to search for the corresponding words in his home tongue. His grip on the clipboard tightened and he pressed his lips tightly together, lifting his head to look at the expectant students even as his cheeks and ears burned. The longer he looked at them, the more anger surged to the forefront and he was forced to close his eyes for a moment, exhaling harshly through his nose before glancing at the French student.

“ _Je suis désolé_ ,” he apologized tightly to him before turning on his heel to face Clark, hissing, “What you expect is _perfect_.”

“Well, thank you,” Clark replied, the picture of innocence. Schneep bared his teeth in response, slapping the clipboard against his chest and knocking him back a step. He closed the distance again just a moment later, grabbing a fistful of his coat and surging up into his face.

“That wasn’t meant to be nice, _Kotzbrocken!_ What you expect is too high! You try to humiliate me because you don’t want me to get job here? Well, thank you for insulting me! I can see I’d _never_ want work with you!” He was going to say more, but judging by how white his knuckles were where they grasped the other doctor’s clothing, he may end up letting his fists get ahead of his mouth if he stayed any longer, so he shoved him away and stormed off before giving himself the opportunity.

It was fortunate that he wasn’t able to drive; if he hadn’t taken a taxi and he had been behind a wheel, he had a feeling he would have run someone over in his rage as he made his way home. Jackieboy was whistling cheerfully in the open kitchen, the sound grating on Schneep’s ears as he slammed the door closed behind him.

“Oh! You’re home early!” Jackieboy remarked as he stirred whatever was on the stove. “I’m making one of my favorite dishes for you to try! It’s got some mushrooms, so I hope you don’t mind them. I’m a pretty intrepid cook, if I do say so myself. Ol’ Magic Master, though, his cooking lives in infamy—actually, I don’t think you could even call it cooking. He doesn’t—”

“ _Stop it!_ ” Schneep screamed, getting no satisfaction out of the way Jackieboy jumped, dropping the ladle into the pot with a clatter. “I don’t understand you! I don’t know what you say! These mushing rooms and intro-pids and infamies mean _nothing_ to me; _I don’t get it!_ Do you get it?! I only hear ‘La-la-la-la-la!’ All you do is talk English nothings at me! You never even try to learn _my_ language. Why? You don’t have a clock for it! Well, _I_ don’t have the clock to check _every single little nothing_ you say so I can find out if you’ve insulted me!”

He ran out of breath there, so he snapped his mouth shut, clenching his fists and glaring as he waited for Jackieboy Man’s reaction. The older Ego gaped back for several seconds, utterly speechless, before blinking a few times and shaking himself.

“I…I didn’t know you felt that way,” he managed at last.

Shaking his head and scoffing, Schneep tore off his lab coat and hurled it at the coatrack without bothering to see if it landed, throwing up his hands as he began moving down the hall toward the lab. “I should not expect. You never listen to what I say.”

“That’s only because you say so little.”

The doctor stopped up short at that, glancing incredulously over his shoulder. Jackieboy had already taken a few steps down the hall after him, clearly intending to continue the conversation. He did so.

“I try to talk to you, Doctor, and I feel like I have to fill the silence because you never _say_ anything,” he explained seriously. “You just nod and smile and then walk away. How could I know you didn’t understand?” Closing in on the silent doctor, he moved around to face him. “If you didn’t understand what I was saying…why didn’t you say something like you did just now? You got your point across without much trouble.”

Fuming wordlessly for a few more moments, Schneep let his narrowed eyes trace the stubble along Jackieboy’s jawline before grudgingly looking further up. To his vague surprise, he only saw earnest expectation in his eyes, much like that of the French boy who had trusted and hoped in him. The sight of it cooled his anger into a painful little bonfire in his stomach, rather than an inferno, and he huffed bitterly.

“You’d insult me,” he muttered. “Just like them at the hospital.”

Jackieboy started at that. “Something happened at the hospital? Is that why you’re home early?” Before Schneep could stop him, he’d wrapped an arm around his shoulders and was steering him back down the hall toward the couch. “C’mere, tell me what happened!”

After some persistent cajoling from Jackieboy, Schneep ended up sharing the entire tale, including his own feelings on the issue in less-than-polite terms. Some were even in German, but Jackieboy didn’t seem too phased by it; in this case, the meanings behind the words were obvious. At the end, he sat quietly—a rarity, which told Schneep to pay attention.

“I’m sorry,” he ventured at last, placing a tentative hand on Schneep’s knee. “I didn’t know. Looks like there’ve been some miscommunications from both of us, huh?” The doctor wasn’t sure how to respond to that and Jackieboy shifted to look at him head-on. “I want to help. I’ve _always_ wanted to help. You saved my life and I haven’t gotten the chance to repay you. If you want, I can teach you better English…Would that help you, Henrik?”

Because Jackieboy’s hand was still on him, Schneep held very still, though his eyes widened just a fraction behind his glasses. Neither of the other Egos had ever called him by his first name before…and oddly enough, it didn’t make him uncomfortable in the least.

“I…would like that,” he admitted, faltering for a beat before adding more quietly, “…Jackie?”

“Yeah, Jackie’s just fine.” Rising, Jackieboy shook his hood back onto his shoulders. “I’ll get a notebook and you can tell me some of the words we need to work on!” Just before disappearing from view, however, he paused, and though Schneep couldn’t see his face, he could hear the new hostile note in his voice. “And I can go have a word with Dr. Clark if you’d like me to. He’s _sure_ to understand if it comes from me.”

“Oh…n-no, thank you,” Schneep waved it off, trying not to let on how grateful he was for the suggestion alone. “I don’t plan to work there anyway.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want to have to hear about that _Kotzbrocken_ every single day.”

With that the hero went off to find a notebook, leaving Schneep to bite his lip and try not to giggle at how badly he had pronounced the German phrase. Maybe these lessons would be helpful for both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> I've always loved the idea that Jackieboy was the one who taught Schneep English; did any of you notice how his English improved between his first video and his second? I headcanon that was because of Jackie's influence! 
> 
> I hope you liked my interpretation of this concept! Leave a kudos or a comment to tell me what you thought; I'd love to hear from you! <3


End file.
